


Oasis

by levisjeans



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Altean Lance (Voltron), Alternate Universe - Western, Desert, M/M, Western
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-21
Updated: 2017-07-21
Packaged: 2018-12-05 07:23:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11573202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/levisjeans/pseuds/levisjeans
Summary: Set in the days of Western expansion, Keith and Shiro are brawlers in a dusty ghost town, when they are recruited by Allura, the sponsor of the Voltron Expedition Company, and find themselves the muscle in an expedition party into the uncharted desert wasteland of the far west, supposedly uninhabitable...or is it? Also, Keith is gay.





	Oasis

"Gents, I present to you our leading man of the match, Keith Kogane!"

Keith sat on the ugly wooden bench in the basement of an ugly, little bar in an ugly, equally small, town. He wore his canvas trousers, bare from the waist up, as beads of sweat ran down his hunched back, blood dripping onto the floor from his nose. He could hear muffled grunts and _thumps_ of bodies hitting the floor in the makeshift arena he'd just stormed out of. He'd won. But had he really? I mean, seriously, how long did he have to keep doing this? His heart rushed with anger and lasting effects from the fight. This wasn't a way out of this piss-poor ghost town, and it never would be. Shiro would just have to understand. 

Keith stood angrily and grabbed his shirt, stalking down the passageway leading to the bar upstairs, from which he could hear the irritating laugh of sleazy bar women, and the broken, brambling voices of drunken men. He was in an underground fight ring, hidden beneath the bar above. It was illegal, you see, a bon-a-fide confidential betting ground ruled by gold-fattened tycoons, and he and his brother Shiro, were stuck right in the middle of't. "Brawling Brothers," they called them. Keith snorted at the name. They fought separately, or in doubles- but they'd never lost a fight. He hated it, but the money was good. And they needed it. 

He pulled on the button-up and haphazardly tucked it in as he walked, suspenders hanging loosely at his sides. He wondered to himself, how long until they could leave this horrible, stinking place? Tucked away in his whirling thoughts, he almost missed the man standing in the shadows, trim and clean-looking, with an impressive ginger 'stache, and dressed in some sort of uniform. He spoke, "I have a proposal for you, he continued, "my employer has been keeping tabs on you and your brother."  
Ah, must be some big whig in the wrestlin' game, and must've heard about him and Shiro- Keith can't say they hadn't been approached before. He kept walking, rudely snubbing the man, "I won't fight in a staged ring, money be damned." The stranger remained unfazed, quickly hurrying to keep in step with Keith, "I assure you it's nothing of the sort-" Keith cut him off again, "Not interested."  
"you haven't even heard the pro-"  
"Beat it," Keith deadpanned. The man gave him an incredulous look and stopped, while Keith kept walking. It was several moments before he spoke again, and Keith was almost to the trapdoor that led to the bar.

"It can get you and your brother out of this situation," Keith froze, "...permanently." 

A way out? He's lying! He must be. But what if he's not. He couldn't take that chance. Keith struggled internally momentarily, before sighing deep, "You have thirty seconds to explain who the fuck y'are and what you want. Make the most of it," he huffed. The man brightened up at his words, and positively beamed at Keith's (begrudging) invitation. He practically skipped over to the raven, giving him a blinding smile, and offering his hand to shake. Keith raised an eyebrow at it, and the man retracted it slowly, instead reaching inside the inner pocket of his jacket and retrieving a card, which he offered to Keith. He took it, looking it over and examining the neatly printed lettering.  
"My name is Coran," the man said, "and you and your brother must meet me and my employer in the market square at noon tomorrow." He waggled his finger in front of Keith's face. "A one time offer, you see! Once in a lifetime!" He practically skipped past Keith's unmoving form, and sending a knowing look back over his shoulder, mocked Keith's earlier words: "Make the most of it, why don't you?"  
And then he was gone. 

Keith stood there, shirt rucked up and half the buttons undone, blood oozing from his nose and knuckles raw, bewildered by this unexpected encounter. He carefully read the card, which had but three words, _Voltron Expedition Co._

A way out.


End file.
